nyslfriends Chapter 1855 Power is like fine wine!
Chapter 1855 Power is like fine wine!
now!
Standing before True Monarch Yunhe was a nine-foot-tall demonic cultivator shrouded in a black cloak.
This person exuded a palpable aura of malevolence, with faint blood-red runes visible flowing beneath his cloak, clearly indicating that he was a Demonic True Lord.
The two had been facing off for almost half an hour.
“Fellow Daoist Yunhe, I am determined to obtain this piece of [Purple Gold Earth Treasury Wood Heart].
The Demon Lord's voice was hoarse, like metal scraping together.
"Name your price."
True Monarch Yunhe stroked his long beard and said calmly:
“Fellow Daoist Blood Fiend, this item was obtained by me three hundred years ago in the depths of the South China Sea, after surviving countless near-death experiences.”
Ordinary treasures are probably not worth trading for.
Just as the Blood Demon Lord was about to speak, that aged voice resounded throughout the heavens and earth.
The two of them were startled at the same time.
True Monarch Yunhe was the first to regain his senses. He immediately stood up, clasped his hands in a fist salute to Blood Demon Lord, and said:
"Fellow Daoist!"
As the senior has just summoned us, today's transaction is now over.
"If you truly wish to exchange this rare treasure with me, then we can only discuss it after I have met with you, senior."
Before he could finish speaking, True Monarch Yunhe waved his hand—
The treasures on the brocade flashed and were all tucked into his sleeve.
His movements were fluid and graceful.
See this.
The Blood Demon Lord frowned slightly, a hint of displeasure flashing in his eyes, but then, as if he had thought of something, his tightly furrowed brows quietly relaxed.
He looked up towards the main hall, and a deep voice came from beneath the black cloak:
“Fellow Daoist is right. Meeting the senior is indeed something that cannot be delayed.”
He paused,
"As for this [Purple Gold Earth Treasury Wood Heart]... how about we continue our discussion after we've met with the senior, fellow Daoist?"
“Agreed.” True Monarch Yunhe nodded.
"If it's convenient for you, fellow Daoist," the Blood Fiend Demon Lord said slowly.
"I am shameless enough to accompany you, fellow Daoist, to meet the senior."
"Naturally convenient."
please! "
Without another word, the two transformed into streaks of light and sped off toward the main hall.
Yunhe Zhenjun was surrounded by gentle breezes and white clouds, while Xue Sha Mojun transformed into a streak of blood-red light. The two completely different auras walked side by side, creating a strange harmony.
Similar scenes were playing out at various locations within the Zhenhai Alliance headquarters.
In the northwest corner, inside a palace constructed of ice crystals, a female cultivator in a blue dress slowly opened her eyes.
She was surrounded by a chilling aura, and the walls of the hall were covered with a thick layer of frost.
Upon hearing that voice, a complex expression flashed in her eyes. She then sighed softly, got up, and pushed open the door to leave.
Outside the door, three cultivators with equally cold auras were already waiting.
"Senior Sister Bingpo, is that the senior..."
A younger female cultivator whispered.
"Let's go."
The woman known as Ice Soul gave a brief response, and the four of them transformed into four streaks of blue light and soared into the sky.
To the due south, a crimson-red weapon-refining hall suddenly opened, unleashing a torrent of heat. A burly man, shirtless and with bulging muscles, strode out.
With each step he took, a charred footprint was left on the ground.
"The senior has finally shown up!"
The burly man grinned, his voice booming like a bell.
"Walk!
Let's go meet this legendary figure!
Behind him, seven or eight other cultivators with equally scorching auras followed closely.
Deep within the Eastern garden, a monk dressed as a scholar in blue robes was feeding fish by the pond.
Hearing the sound, he gently scattered all the fish food in his hand into the pond, clapped his hands, and laughed:
"Fish, oh fish, I have important business to attend to today. I will play with you another day."
He took a step forward, and a blue lotus flower bloomed beneath his feet, lifting him slowly into the air.
It seemed slow, but it was gone in just a few breaths.
On the west training ground, two cultivators who were sparring stopped at the same time.
One of the middle-aged swordsmen, carrying a long sword on his back, looked up at the sky, a hint of sword intent flickering in his eyes:
"That senior... has finally shown up."
"Fellow Daoist Jian Chen, shall we go together?"
Another valiant young man, wielding a long spear, asked.
"nature."
……
From the air, the Zhenhai Alliance headquarters looks like a giant chessboard, and at this moment all the pieces on the chessboard are moving.
From all directions, streaks of light of various colors streaked across the sky like shooting stars, converging on the majestic main hall in the center.
Green, red, blue, gold, black...
The escape lights propelled by different techniques intertwined to form a dazzling net of light.
The powerful auras collided in the air, stirring up ripples of spiritual energy.
Occasionally, familiar cultivators would meet in the air, nodding to each other, but no one spoke—
Everyone knows that today's events are of utmost importance.
Not long after.
Inside the Zhenhai Alliance Hall, the scene was even more magnificent.
The main hall is 99 zhang high and over 300 zhang wide, with 72 coiled dragon pillars supporting the dome. The dragons carved on each pillar are lifelike.
A luminous pearl was inlaid in the dragon's eye, illuminating the entire hall as bright as day.
The ground is paved with solid pieces of warm jade, which feels warm and smooth underfoot and helps people calm their minds.
On both sides of the main hall, thousands of prayer cushions were arranged in order, and in front of each prayer cushion was a low table, on which spiritual tea and immortal fruits had already been prepared.
At this moment, seven or eight tenths of the cultivators were already seated on the prayer mats.
Yunhe Zhenjun and Xue Sha Mojun entered the palace gates almost simultaneously.
The moment the two entered, they felt dozens of eyes sweeping over them—
There was curiosity, scrutiny, and a hint of hostility.
Yunhe Zhenjun remained expressionless and walked straight to a futon in the middle of the left side to sit down.
The Blood Demon Lord chose a position on the right, towards the back.
Clearly, they didn't want to attract too much attention.
Only after the two were seated did they have time to observe the situation inside the hall.
On the high platform, the throne, carved from a single piece of star jade, remained empty.
Behind the throne hangs a huge landscape painting, in which clouds and mist swirl, and celestial mountains and pavilions are faintly visible, seemingly moving slowly as if they were alive.
Below the throne, the main hall was divided into several areas by invisible boundaries:
On the three rows of prayer mats closest to the high platform sat the core elders of the Zhenhai Alliance, each with a deep and profound aura, and all at least at the late Nascent Soul stage.
They looked solemn and their eyes were fixed straight ahead.
The area on the left is mostly filled with Taoist cultivators, dressed in various styles, but most of them have an air of otherworldly elegance and extraordinary bearing.
Yunhe Zhenjun is among them.
The area on the right is occupied by demonic cultivators and some unorthodox cultivators with strange auras.
Several demonic cultivators, equally imbued with malevolent energy, sat around the Blood Demon Lord.
They occasionally exchanged glances.
Behind and on both sides are some cultivators with slightly weaker auras, mostly sect elders whose lineages are incomplete.
Knowing they lacked the strength to vie for dominance, most of them sat quietly, observing the situation.
"So many people have come..."
Yunhe Zhenjun pondered to himself, his gaze sweeping across the entire scene, recognizing many familiar faces.
The aloof and beautiful female cultivator sitting to the left, dressed in an ice-blue long dress, is none other than the current Palace Master of the Northern Darkness Palace, "Ice Soul Fairy," with a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivation level and unparalleled mastery of ice-based divine abilities.
The third row from the right, the shirtless giant is the "Blazing Flame True Lord" of Nanlihuo Island, a master weapon refiner with a fiery temper but unparalleled weapon-refining skills.
There was also the "Azure Lotus Sword Master," a scholar in blue robes, a legendary figure among sword cultivators, who was said to have once repelled a transformed demon with a single sword strike...
"It seems that the influence of that senior is far beyond our imagination."
The Blood Demon Lord was also observing, his eyes flickering uncertainly beneath his black cloak.
over time···
More and more monks poured into the main hall.
Some go alone, while others go in groups of three or five.
Those who knew each other would nod in acquaintance, while those with grudges would give each other cold looks, but in this situation, no one dared to act rashly.
The imposing aura of the senior figure who had yet to appear constantly enveloped the entire hall.
About an incense stick later, the palace doors slowly closed.
"boom--"
The heavy slam of the door closing echoed through the hall, isolating it from all outside noise.
The hall suddenly fell silent. Thousands of powerful individuals, all at least at the Nascent Soul stage, were gathered together, yet the silence was so profound that you could hear a pin drop.
Everyone stared at the empty throne on the high platform, waiting for the legendary senior to appear.
The air was so heavy it felt like you could wring water out of it.
Yunhe Zhenjun picked up the spiritual tea in front of him, took a sip, and found the aroma of the tea refreshing, but it could not suppress the turmoil in his heart.
He glanced at the Blood Demon Lord on his right and noticed that the other man was tapping his fingers lightly on his knee, clearly deep in thought.
The soft glow of the luminous pearls on the dome of the main hall illuminated everyone's expressions clearly: there was anticipation, trepidation, curiosity, and also hidden calculations.
Just as this silence was about to reach its peak—
A figure materialized from the ethereal void.
And at this very moment...
Inside the main hall, the air seemed to freeze.
Thousands of eyes were focused on the figure on the high platform.
He wore a simple, unadorned blue Taoist robe.
Her long hair was casually draped over her shoulders, with a few strands of silver mixed in.
His face was that of an ordinary old man, with ordinary features, but his eyes were deep and unfathomable, as if they could see through all the illusions of the world.
Cheng Buzheng.
No, to be precise, it is one of Cheng Buzheng's Dharma bodies.
He sat quietly on that throne, emitting no aura whatsoever, yet he instilled in all the cultivators present a primal sense of oppression—
Like ants gazing up at mountains, or fish staring into the deep sea.
After a brief silence—
"I'll wait to see you, senior!"
The powerful figures from the Zhenhai Alliance in the main hall were the first to bow in respect.
Their movements were extremely respectful, their long beards almost touching the ground.
"Greetings, senior!"
Then, on both sides, the various immortal sects and demonic sects followed closely behind, their bodies bending at a ninety-degree angle.
"Greetings, senior!"
"Greetings, senior!"
"..."
The sound was like a tide.
From the top immortal sect half-saints in the front row to the late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators in the back row, thousands of people bowed in unison.
In that instant, all the powerful auras within the hall vanished completely, leaving only a sense of reverence.
Some people had beads of sweat on their foreheads, some had trembling fingers, and some had complex expressions in their eyes—
But no one dared to look up and look directly at them.
On the high platform, Cheng Buzheng calmly watched this scene.
Thousands of cultivators, any one of whom would be a powerful patriarch in the outside world.
He founded a sect, ruled over vast territories, and had tens of thousands of disciples.
Many of them have never bowed their heads to anyone for hundreds or thousands of years.
At this moment, they all bent their proud backs.
An indescribable emotion rose in Cheng Buzheng's heart.
It is a kind of heroic feeling of having the power of life and death and commanding heroes, the taste of power that ordinary emperors and generals are unwilling to relinquish until their death.
It was truly intoxicating, as if with just a word from him, thousands of powerful figures in this hall would go through fire and water for him, and the entire landscape of the cultivation world would change because of his single thought.
That's what a real man is all about.
But Cheng Buzheng only closed his eyes slightly before opening them again.
The fleeting ripples in those deep eyes had subsided like a still well.
He knew that all of this did not come from political maneuvering, nor from his high moral standing.
What made these powerful figures bow down was his immense power capable of suppressing everything—
His cultivation at the Nascent Soul Realm was enough to crush the combined resistance of everyone present.
Power is like fine wine; a sip is enough, but becoming addicted to it will only lead to a loss of one's true nature.
In the blink of an eye, Cheng Buzheng's state of mind improved another step.
"My dear friends, please rise."
He spoke, his voice not loud, but it clearly reached everyone's ears, as if it resonated directly in their hearts.
"Thank you, senior!"
"Thank you, senior!"
Everyone straightened up, but still bowed their heads slightly as a sign of respect.
Cheng Buzheng skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the point:
"This time, my true form did not intend to linger in the cultivation world; I planned to immediately go into seclusion for one last gamble—"
Success means ascension to the higher realms; failure means annihilation.
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the main hall:
"After all, looking around the cultivation world today, there is no one left who is the same as before."
As soon as he finished speaking, undercurrents stirred within the hall.
Many cultivators suddenly realized—
The previous rumors about this Nascent Soul senior being an ancient rogue cultivator who had been asleep until now are probably true.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have uttered such poignant words as "there are no more old friends."
But then, another thought came to everyone's mind:
"not good!
Could it be true, as the rumors suggest, that this senior intends to unify the human cultivation world?
Similar thoughts flashed through the minds of most monks.
Some representatives of top sects changed their expressions slightly, while cultivators who had already received word from the higher-ups of the Zhenhai Alliance had a knowing look in their eyes.
at this time--
"Ugh."
Cheng Buzheng sighed softly, his tone turning serious:
"That was indeed my original plan. But since my birth, seeing the turmoil in this world, after some investigation, I learned about the upheaval many years ago..."
He paused, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes:
"Extraterrestrial races are eyeing us covetously... while our human race is still engaged in endless wars and internal strife."
If this continues, the annihilation of our entire clan will not be far off.
The hall was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.
"I have no choice but to change my original plan."
Cheng Buzheng's voice turned cold.
"The reason for gathering you all here today is to quell this turbulent world and unite the power of humanity in order to prepare for the great calamity to come."
His gaze, sharp as lightning, swept across the entire room:
"Young friends, would you be willing to lend me a hand?"
The moment the last word fell—
"boom!"
The pressure of the Nascent Soul stage erupted like a mountain collapsing and a tsunami crashing!
It wasn't targeted at any one person, but rather an indiscriminate oppression that enveloped the entire hall.
The air suddenly froze, as if the space itself had been frozen.
The weaker late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators felt difficulty breathing and their Nascent Souls trembled.
It felt as if an invisible hand was gripping my throat, my life hanging by a thread.
Those semi-saint level experts were also having a hard time.
Cold sweat beaded on their foreheads, veins bulged, and their internal magical power surged frantically in resistance, but it was like ants trying to shake a mountain.
They finally truly understood how terrifying the gap between the Nascent Soul and the Divine Transformation stage was—
That's not a difference in quantity, but a qualitative transformation.
"···"
...(End of this chapter)